Uphill Battles

I came around the corner into the front entrance of our home to see Esther removing her shoes and carefully putting them into our shoe holder. She was putting her shoes away, unasked. All I can say is, I had a refreshingly cool feeling come over me, like being washed over by some unseen waterfall. There. We have been trying to teach both girls to remove their shoes and put them in the shoe slot since both began walking and knew what those two things were at the end of their feet. Somehow Abby hasn’t yet remembered to do that on her own. She will take her shoes off sometimes, but almost always leave them wherever she happens to be. She’s two years older than Esther. She takes after Daddy a bit that way. And there are LOTS of good qualities about this aspect in both of them.

But Esther, so far, appears to exhibit more of my qualities than Daddy’s. Is it wrong to feel proud of this fact? She tends to automatically put away whatever she’s dug out. When I’m fixing her hair, she dumps the barrettes all over the bathroom countertop; when I finish with her hair and announce she’s done, I expect that, like her older sister, she will hop down off the stool and go about her play; instead, she instantly begins to sing Barney’s “Clean Up” song and plunks every last barrette into the container. Is there some code written into DNA, programmed into some human beings, that what comes out must go back in? It certainly is built into my maintenance program. As Esther begins to follow suit, I can see an ever-so-small light at the end of the never-ending pickup tunnel.

Some days I feel like I’m in a video game or a Mary Poppins’ movie. I put shoes, toys, clothes, books, papers, pillows, paints, crayons, hats, pretty much anything away, and within seconds, I’m putting the same shoes, toys, clothes, books, papers, pillows, paints, crayons, hats, and junk away again and again and again. I think to myself, “Didn’t I just…” And then I confirm my sanity when I see one of my children next to me get the very same thing out that I just put away. Then I ask myself why I even begin to try. Why put things away?

I’ve finally made some adjustments to this madness. I wait until naptime and bedtime to do any and all pickup. It lessens the needless repetitions by an incalculable percentage, and hence, my sanity has improved a little. I now look around at the general mess, and to refrain myself from instantly picking things up, I see it as all part of the learning process. If I put it away, they will miss an opportunity to play with it; out of sight, out of mind. If I put it away, they will miss an opportunity to learn how to pick up after themselves before bedtime. It will make its way out of the toy box or drawer in seconds, anyway, so why put it back in until the culprits are finally lost to all worldly consciousness for the day?

Eventually, I will teach them to put current toys away before getting new toys out, but at this age, it’s fighting an uphill battle that this pregnant mama is a little tired of fighting.